


Talk to you next time

by mee4ever



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Actor Harry, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Bottom Draco, I don't even know what to tag this, M/M, Muggle Life, Sub Harry Potter, Talk Shows, Talking, Voice Kink, as well as harry/cedric, its just weird, mentioning of harry/ginny, or whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-12 01:02:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7078036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mee4ever/pseuds/mee4ever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione books Neville to be the voice in his ear when Harry is doing live television, but today he was already booked. Harry is going to get a guy that works on<i> The Skeeter Show</i> as a regular and he's freaking out.</p><p>Or the one where Draco gets to tell Harry what to do and Harry kind of likes it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Talk to you next time

**Author's Note:**

> Threw around some Muggle AU ideas with [ladyteatotal](http://ladyteatotal.tumblr.com/) (who also beta read the story and is the beeeest) and settled on this one:  
> Muggle AU where Harry is invited on a TV show and the voice in his earbud is incredibly arousing

Today, Harry is stressed. Okay, who is he kidding, he’s _always_ stressed. He’s been stressed since before he understood what stressed even meant because growing up as a child actor in one of the world biggest franchises isn’t a pretty walk laced with rose petals. No. It’s been over ten years worth of really messed up schedules and movie premieres and appearances on talk shows and so many people running in and out of his life constantly. It’s no wonder he’s always on edge, it doesn’t matter how much Hermione tries to keep his life in order or that her husband makes her book free time for Harry to come see them. It’s always something else he needs to worry about, or write a speech for or learn lines for. And today, he’s doing live TV and he _hates_ doing live TV.

It’s not for the fact that he gets tongue tied when they ask him questions, it’s more the other way around. That he can’t stop himself, that he just spews everything on whatever subject and he’s worked up enough to not realise when he should probably shut it. Which is why he usually is very glad that Hermione books Neville to be the voice in his ear when they’re doing these sorts of things, because Neville is always chill and doesn’t interrupt Harry as much as he chips in and says that maybe Harry wants to tone down on the hostility? in a very gentle sort of way. Today though. Neville isn’t here. He was already booked, Hermione said and Harry is going to get a guy that works on _The Skeeter Show_ as a regular and Harry is more stressed about things being out of normal than he is about fucking up. Which says something, because the witch he’s currently visiting is one of the most vicious reporters that Harry has ever faced during his whole career. He just really likes things when he feels a little bit in control, okay?

Rita Skeeter is the person who broke the story about Harry and Ginny back when they were sixteen. They had a little fling that lasted a few months only because after the story was published, Ginny was bombarded with paparazzi and death threats and she just wasn’t into Harry enough to keep that going. She ran off to another country and played football instead. Just as well, because Harry met Cedric not long after and would’ve probably dumped Ginny anyhow. By the way, Rita also broke the story about him and Cedric, though they managed to keep it a secret for almost a year, until Harry turned eighteen. But in the end it of course got out that the child star had been swept off his feet by a _man._ Nobody inside of the acting circle was surprised, half Harry’s fans already shipped them and the other half was just pleasantly surprised. Harry had decidedly _not_ come out on Rita’s show. He’d gone to Luna instead, because she always made him feel comfortable, even when everyone else on his then current set thought he was mental for thinking so. But Luna had been a wonderful host and not really given a shit that Harry was bisexual and continued asking about his plans for the future in media instead after he’d dropped his line.

He wished this was a Luna interview instead. He wished he could be fully promoted just by going on _Late Night with Lovegood,_ but unfortunately not. Skeeter had a broader audience, Hermione would say, she’s a bug, but everyone loves her. And this is a big movie coming up, it’s the first one after everything with Cedric went down. Which means he’s got to ace this. Without Neville. Ergo. Super-stressed Harry Potter.

Harry and Cedric had been a very calm couple, despite the hurricane life they lived; Cedric also an actor and always in the spotlight, and Harry practically unable to go anywhere without a camera being propped up in his face. The two of them found comfort in quietude, sleeping curled up to one another and sweet kisses. Outside, in the real world, they would hold hands and give each other slow smiles and the press always went bananas.

For their relationship, it hadn’t been flashing lights and death threats that tore them apart. It’d been… just... _life_. Compatibility. Cedric wasn’t much for sex, Harry was. Cedric liked wine, Harry didn’t. Cedric wanted a house full of children, Harry wanted nothing as such. There were too many things, they realised after three years, that weren’t adding up and they’d come to a very mature decision and broken up. Then Cedric had been hit by a car and ended up in the hospital for a few weeks and things were a fucking mess, to be completely honest. The press wrote stories about how Potter wasn’t by Diggory’s side after the incident and when Harry went to visit, they wrote stories that Potter was just doing it for the press.

Right now, he wishes that Cedric would be in the crowd, just knowing that would make him feel less tense. He, of course, isn’t; there’s no one here for Harry today. Well. The whole audience is here for him, but he doesn’t actually _know_ any of them. That was one of the best things with Cedric, the way he always made Harry feel grounded, he never stressed much in his presence. Sometimes, Harry misses him so much it hurts.

He’s being handed clothes and brushed with make up and suffocated in a cloud of hair spray that supposedly is to keep his unruly hair in check. No hair dresser has ever made that quite possible so Harry usually just wishes them good luck and folds his arms. Today is no different and the lady doesn’t even try to go at it a second time, she just shrugs and leaves. Harry is alone for all of two seconds, where he can catch his breath but then there’s a guy walking in and starts rigging him with his mic and ear piece.

“ _Testing_.” Right, new guy. The voice is slow, edging on bored.

“I can hear you,” Harry says. “Can you hear me?”

“ _Clear as day, Potter._ ” Most people call him Harry. He doesn’t mind, he usually mind it more when they call him Mr. Potter because that is so formal; but this is… different. He scoffs.

“‘Potter’?” he asks.

“ _Why, is this someone else I’m talking to? Or have you forgotten your own name?_ ” It’s borderline impolite and if they guy would’ve been present, Harry would’ve stared at him. Now, he only stares at the other guy trying to hook him up with all the cables. The guy in the room looks uncomfortable and shrugs, quietly saying _Draco Malfoy_ while tapping his ear to indicate that it’s not his own name. He murmurs a _sorry ‘bout that_ and leaves in a hurry. Harry is finally able to answer.

“No, I’m Harry Potter, I know, I just-”

“ _Good, then get your ass out of your room and onto the waiting area._ ” Harry snorts, because _rude,_ but does as he’s told. Leaving the room, he only looks in the mirror once and adjusts his tie twice. He checks his watch, ten minutes until he’s supposed to be on air and Harry wonders why you always have to be watching for so long before you’re actually allowed up on stage. Probably because Rita Skeeter is an attention whore and wants everyone to watch her every move, but anyway. Hermione always says it’s because it’s supposed to keep the guests occupied and not think about their nerves. _Bullshit_ , Harry says to that because Hermy has never been on a live-show. It doesn’t matter what you do, you’re nervous as hell anyhow.

“ _Stop fidgeting. It’s not sexy._ ” Harry abruptly stops moving his hands and starts looking around. He can’t see the guy who’s currently mocking him for being nervous but quite obviously he can see Harry.

“Who _are_ you?” Harry asks because really, who does this guy think he is?

 _"I’m Draco Malfoy. I would come say hello, but I don’t want to._ ” Harry startles a laugh and gets a few dirty looks from behind the scenes-workers. He zips his mouth shut and pretends to throw away the key. It’s a sort of brutal honesty that Harry isn’t used to, everyone except for a few close friends (read: Hermione, Ron, Neville, and Luna, of course) always tries to sweet talk him or agree with his every word or you know, generally swoon just because he’s famous, or whatever.

“Well, Draco Malfoy,” Harry says quietly, “are you going to pester me with crude remarks throughout this whole interview?”

“ _It hasn’t even started yet, Potter,_ ” Draco Malfoy says and Harry feels a tinge when the other man uses his name. It’s not entirely pleasant, but he doesn’t _not_ like it either. It’s like a challenge. A challenge to what, Harry doesn’t know, but he has a feeling he’ll get more of it during this session. He’s almost looking forward to it.

“Just get me through it, please?” Harry asks and this time, Malfoy snorts.

“ _Five minutes,_ ” he says and Harry nods approvingly.

From the moment the first movie hit the theaters, Harry’s life had changed and would never be anything that resembled a normal eleven-year-old’s life. The film was such a massive hit that Harry was practically turned into a star overnight and everything in his life since then had practically been recorded, photographed and written about because the world seemingly couldn’t get enough of him. It was an overwhelming experience and he thanks heaven several times a week that he’s never found himself deep down in drugs or alcohol, that his anxiety disorder is the only thing he has to battle with, because it is well enough to tire him out. He’s seen friends go down the rabbit hole and never clamber their way out of it again. He’s seen _himself_ hiding in an hotel room for seven days straight because he couldn’t muster up to face the world, so he doesn’t think adding toxics would’ve suited him very well. Ron had had a few too many “I think my best friend overdosed”-moments _without_ him even using anything for it to be fair to either himself nor anyone else to start.  

“Is my tie straight?” Harry murmurs. He never gets the tie right. It’s always too tight, or flipped backwards, or too loose or-

“ _Straighter than you._ ”

He tries. really. hard. not to cough loudly when he chokes.

“Does that mean it’s a little bit askew?” he asks when he can finally breathe again and on the other end there is just silence. Harry gets the feeling that the other man rolls his eyes. The two of them mutter a couple of more words to eah other, before Malfoy clears his throat and announces:

“ _Potter, you’re on in five, four, three, two, one._ ” It takes till “three”, until Harry understands that it has already gone five minutes and he’s supposed to be on air in two seconds. He hasn’t really had time to worry. There’s a girl showing him where to go, holding her fingers up and counting down as Draco counts in his ear. At one, Harry starts moving out on stage but he hasn’t even taken three steps before Malfoy speaks again.

“ _Straighten your back, Christ sake’s, Potter, are you a cave man?_ ” Harry grits his teeth, but again, does what he’s told. He has his talk-show-smile plastered over his face and he wishes he could feel as comfortable as he knows he looks.

Standing in front of a camera while a director is screaming “action!” and to go into character, knowing your lines and where you’re supposed to stand, that is what Harry does best. When he knows what he’s doing and when he knows what to expect of his fellow actors. When faced with crowds, unprepared questions and slimey hosts, he never knows how to act. It was a pain in the arse in the beginning, but then he was also a child and things were often overlooked. Nowadays, he’s supposedly a very well-mannered adult that has been in the game long enough to know how to do these things, it should be as easy as to put one’s socks on in the morning. It really isn’t.

The crowd screams loudly but he can still hear Malfoy going: “ _Don’t shake her hand for too long, she’ll take it as a sign that you want to sleep with her if you do”_ as he stalks up to Rita Skeeter and her outstretched, perfectly manicured hand and he grabs it. He says _thanks,_ as if it was to her, but it is for Draco as he lets go of Skeeter’s hand as soon as he can. Her demeanour only falters for a millisecond, and Harry decides to smile even more brightly at that. She gestures for him to sit down and as they do, the cheering minimizes.

“Harry! Harry, Harry, Harry, long time no see! It’s almost like you’re avoiding me!”

“Surely am not,” he lies, “there’s just much going on right now.” Malfoy snickers in his ear.

“Yes,” Rita says like she totally understands, “what, with the new movies and all?” Harry nods. She’s going to ask more about the movie premiering next week, but later. Because she always takes that part last. Like that is the last thing she want to know about, which, in all fairness, is probably the truth. She leans forward, hands clasped in her lap. Staring at him. _Intently_.

“So, Harry, tell me, is there someone new in your life? A little bird? A tough guy? Hm?”

“ _She hopes not._ ” It takes a lot of Harry’s will to not laugh Skeeter in the face. He’s going to murder this Malfoy-guy if they ever meet for real. Harry is stressed enough about these thing without having someone dropping stupid comments that makes him crack up on live television. He clears his throat.

“Ehm,” he says and pulls a little at his collar (“ _Stop doing that._ ”) before continuing. “I’ve not met anyone new, no. I’m focusing on me and my career at the moment.” He doesn’t really want to tell the world he was on the worst fucking date ever last week, because by some miracle there aren’t any pictures of it.

Cho wasn’t exactly a fan of Harry’s, but she definitely was a fan of Cedric. Which had become very apparent when she’d wanted to gush about _him_ on a date with _Harry,_ like that wasn’t weird at all. Needless to say, it’d been the only date Harry would ever go on with her.

“That’s a shame, Harry, a handsome boy like you could get any girl you wanted.” There is a light _whoop_ of agreement coming from the crowd and Harry laughs a little.

“ _Here we go again with bi-erasure.”_

“Or a guy,” Harry adds. “Cedric wasn’t just a phase.” The cameras must pan over the audience then, because their reaction to Cedric’s name is just too good to not air. Harry isn’t sure, but he thinks there might be a girl crying.

While the crowd tries calming itself, Malfoy says: _“How very humble of you to tell the world you can literally have anyone you want_.” When pointed out, it really _did_ sound like Harry thought he could have anyone, which is not how reality works. He can barely get a decent date because he’s just too much in the spotlight for people to either not know from the beginning who he is, or not care enough that they actually get to know the real him. It is of course easier among his co-workers and other celebs but many of them are just too caught up in the fame or work too much on drama that Harry doesn't care for them either. Cedric had been a lucky shot that’d worked out splendidly for a while. All he wishes is that he finds someone else that he can be just as lucky with.

“I’m sure someone will come along,” Skeeter says. “In the mean time, we all want to hear everything about your encounter with the Bloody Baron!” Harry presses down a groan because _that_ is a thing he doesn’t really want to talk about. The older man is a director Harry doesn't particularly like and he wants Harry in his next movie. They’d met up for coffee the other week and Harry would bet his left arm that the paparazzi shots was paid in well by the Baron himself. Press is something you never got enough of and the Baron is known to play some dirty tricks. Harry couldn’t say no to the coffee, but Hermione assures him it won't be a problem to say no to the role if he doesn’t want it (which, he doesn't).

“We just met up for a chat last week,” Harry chirps. “The Baron knows where I stand regarding us working together, so that’s it really.” Harry thinks he started the sentence pretty okay, but he realises he didn’t ended on the same note when Malfoy mutterers: “ _You could try and, you know,_ not _say those sorts of things. It would make my job easier._ ”

“Oh,” Skeeter says, leaning forward in her chair. “You aren’t a big fan of his?”

“ _Make it right, Potter._ ” There is a surge in his stomach once more when his name is mentioned and this time, it's definitely a good feeling. Harry clears his throat.

“I mean, I love his work-”

“ _Don’t say he’s a dick._ ”

“And I’m not saying he’s not good, because he is, but I don’t know if I’d fit into one of his films, you know? They’re a bit too…”

“ _Bloody.”_

“... _bloody_ , for me, don’t you think?” The crowd laughs, Skeeter shines. Malfoy groans, but doesn’t say anything. Harry smirks. The Baron is known for always making movies with tons of deaths, slicing bodies and liter after liter of fake blood. Harry isn’t into that sort of thing.

The interview rolls on, Rita keeps asking inappropriate questions about his personal relationships, as well as professional ones, Harry tries to answer the best he can without having Malfoy telling him he’s screwing it up and it works pretty well.

“ _I’m not much for telling people to smile, but you should at least try and not look so constipated with her jokes._ ” Harry hadn’t even known he was starting to slip into a look that was received as fake, and he manages to actually laugh at the next appropriate time.

“ _Stop fidgeting!_ ” Malfoy says then.

To Harry’s advantage, right then they show a clip and he knows they cut the mics to everywhere but to the crew. Harry scratches his face beside his nose, with the gesture covering his mouth and so he can whisper without looking like a total freak. “Can’t help it.”

 _“Bu-huh, like you’re the first. Just sit on your hands or make some fists_.” The clip is over and Harry smiles and nods. Hasn’t even heard what Rita’s talking about. He folds his hands together but all it does is make him start jumping his leg instead. They show another clip.

“ _You’re testing my patience. I’m here to help._ ”

“You _aren’t_ ,” Harry says without moving his lips. It’s just to rile Harry up now; Malfoy should just be quiet because that’s the deal: only speak when it’s necessary, something is wrong, or something is changed. Telling Harry how Malfoy personally feels doesn’t make that cut. But no one interacts so Harry has to deal and believe that this is what the mic-guy was talking about when he apologized in advance for one very special “Draco Malfoy”. Yet, Harry doesn't _really_ want him to stop talking.

The other man keeps dropping unneeded comments, but also very helpful ones every once in a while. The interview is long enough for Harry to get _used_ to it and when Skeeter finally starts asking about his latest movie, Harry finds himself feeling like he wouldn't mind having Malfoy talking to him like this more often when he purrs that Harry should spoil the whole movie for shits and giggles. Malfoy cuts him off after a minute, tells him that the time is up and Harry swiftly wraps up. Skeeter thanks Harry for coming and then starts gushing about a band Harry knows nothing about.

“Would you want to see them?” Rita Skeeter asks Harry before turning to the audience, gushing a positive response from them, making sure Harry isn’t supposed to be able to say no. Yet, he’s quiet for the longest time.

Malfoy makes a strangled noise. “ _Say yes already.”_ Harry finally says yes.

“ _And cheer with the audience._ ” Harry cheers with the audience. Rita makes a gesture for him to stand up and the whole freaking stage starts spinning.

“ _You’d be a splendid sub._ ” Harry almost trips over. “ _That was a bit too unprofessional._ ” The other man's voice doesn't sound apologetic, just as lazy as before. Harry _likes_ it.

“You think?!” He hisses anyway. Everyone around him is so busy moving around the stage and following Skeeter that no one realises Harry said something. It's not that just hearing Malfoy’s voice is leaving a lot to Harry’s imagination, it is that Harry hadn't _planned_ to have his imagination run _wild_ because Malfoy managed to have him think about sex on live TV. Dirty, dominated, getting fucked over a desk-kind of sex. Harry is so glad this interview is over in a minute.

Sure enough, Malfoy tells him to follow the lady again, just a few minutes later, since the new segment has started and Harry is not needed anymore. He complies quietly when he’s lead backstage and nods when being asked if he wants to watch for a while. He's not sure why, but he isn't really in a hurry, so...

“Potter.” Harry immediately recognizes the voice and twists around. He’s been mindlessly watching the performance on stage, without taking in any of it. Now he takes _everything_ in. The man is an inch taller, pale and blond, a small scar sits on his left cheek, he has thin wrists and the first thing Harry wants to say is “damn”. Instead, he clears his throat.

“Draco Malfoy. You came to meet me anyway.”

“Almost made a bloody fool out of you, thought it was the least I could do was show my face.”

“I’m not complaining. It’s a nice one.”

“Gesture?”

“Face.”

“Hm.” Malfoy nods once, like he doesn’t really know what to do with that information. And not _really_ like he doesn't care.

“So…” Harry says and it sounds way more suggestive than awkward. Malfoy gives Harry a sly smile. He looks like he knows something Harry doesn't and he looks like he wants to tell Harry all about it. Harry gulps. He shoves his hands into his pockets because he's fidgeting and he clearly remembers that that is _not sexy_. He wants to ask about being a sub. Really. That's the only thing he can think of but he's literally just met this man and doesn't know anything about him except that he's a bastard and Harry is kind of a lot into the sound of his raspy voice. He clears his throat but can't seem to find any words so he just smiles awkwardly instead. The blond gives him a knowing grin in return.

“You cannot stop thinking about it, can you?” Malfoy teases and Harry might turn a few shades of darker pink but he is not going to tell anyone about that.

“Know what? I'll tell you a secret,” Malfoy says then and with his index finger he gestures for Harry to come forward; Harry hesitates only a second before stepping up. The other man leans in, putting his head close to Harry’s as if to whisper to him.

“I always bottom,” he says slowly in Harry’s ear (Harry would like to keep him doing that forever), “but I never sub.” Harry holds down a whine because _fuuuuck_ and Malfoy gives him a pointed look before wandering off. Harry turns to see him walk away and he feels _breathless._

“Talk to you next time, Potter.” And then he's gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Like my stuff? [Buy me a coffee!](https://www.buymeacoffee.com/mee4ever)


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